Page 271 of Double Daddies
Damn it. The peace was shattered by the shout from the front of the cabin, sounding miles away. Clay exchanged a glance with Tristan and decided the new Dom needed the practice more. “I’ll get it. Finish this up, you’re doing a good job.”
Avery blinked tiredly when he pushed his luck a little further, bending to brush his mouth over hers. He felt the quick, soft press of her tongue against his bottom lip before he pulled away and winked.
“Maybe later, sweetling. Food first, new plan after.”
Whistling under his breath, he went to meet the delivery boy.
Avery
God, she felt ridiculously tired.
The nap hadn’t done anything to alleviate the fatigue and now, after spending what seemed like eternity with two sets of hands teasing her head and hair, her body felt languid and aroused.
Tristan’s presence behind her wasn’t helping; the warmth radiating off him penetrated her bare skin where the towel didn’t cover, and his hands kept skimming over her shoulders as he untangled her hair. A full body shiver of pleasure speared through her when he gathered her now-straight locks into one hand, his fingertips catching an erogenous zone between her shoulder blades, just above the material.
“Are you cold?”
“No.” Shit, was she supposed to call him Daddy? It rolled off her tongue more easily with Clay, but she guessed if they were both acting in that capacity, she needed to make a concerted effort to address them equally.
“Good. I, ah… I should probably apologize for coming on too strong yesterday, right? I’m kind of used to having women…”
“Throw themselves at your feet?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“Figures.” She cast a glance over her shoulder. “Money bunnies.”
He laughed and gave her hair a light tug. “Hopping along after the stud with the biggest wallet. Unfortunately in that respect, mine is pretty fucki—I mean fluffing—big. Probably one of the biggest.”
“Are we using wallet as a euphemism for your cock? If so, I’ve seen bigger.”
“Wow, you are savage. Besides, you haven’t seen what I’ve got.”
She shrugged and turned forward, feeling the familiar mischievousness creeping out to play. Her voice was higher, lighter, when she retorted, “Still seen bigger.”
“Clay was right—you’re a brat.”
His faux offended tone made her giggle, then she gasped and twisted as he dragged his fingernails lightly over the spot she’d reacted to only a moment ago. Her whole being contracted, the pleasure so intense, it felt as though her skin would erupt with it.
She didn’t know whether to scream, belt him, or just orgasm.
Instead, she started laughing as she writhed, squirming out of the towel completely before landing butt first on the floor. Stark naked, her skin twitching with the sensation still crawling between her shoulder blades, she almost crawled away until she realized how her private assets would be on display.
Clay stepped back into the room, a stack of insulated takeout boxes in his hands, and his eyebrows hit his hairline. A slow, wicked grin bloomed as he flicked his gaze to Tristan, then stroked it over her. “Looks like Tristan worked his magic on your hair, sweetling, but God created perfection with the rest of you.”
“Suck-up,” Tristan said with a laugh.
“I’mthe suck-up? Who ordered the triple fudge cake for dessert?”
Nakedness forgotten, Avery rolled up on to her knees like a nun at prayer. She’d made a pact not to eat her own products—her ass was prominent enough, thank you—but she always sampled a tiny bit for quality control.
The triple chocolate fudge was her favorite, even if she didn’t let herself indulge.
Clay’s gaze darkened as it roamed over her in the new position. Lingering on her breasts and her traitorous nipples standing to attention, locking on the dark curls between her legs. He stepped to the side of her, setting the boxes down, then loosened his belt and tugged his shirt free from his waistband.
Grasping the collar, he yanked the garment over his head, revealing a broad, muscular chest with matching shoulders and arms. A scattering of dark hair adorned his pectorals, arrowing down over his belly to disappear under his waistband.
“Stand up, sweetling,” he ordered, then smiled approvingly when she slowly obeyed. “Raise your arms.”
